Of Sweaters and Tsunderes
by sufinprincess
Summary: Iceland and Finland have always been great friends and it should have been an easy transition into a couple. Too bad they're both very tsundere.


**I was talking to viikuu the other about Iceland and Finland being knitting buddies and yeah. Idek just dumb, crack-y icefin just take it losers**

"Aurrrgh!"

Iceland turned to look at Finland. He shook his head. Finland always let his emotions read plain on his face and right now, Finland looked downright murderous.

Of course, Iceland knew Finland would never murder him, so he didn't particularly care.

"I. Dropped. A. Stitch," Finland enunciated very carefully. He looked at the needle that held his knitting and stared at the offending stitch. He raised the other needle and his hand came down quickly, as if he was about to stab the table, but he suddenly seemed to think better of it.

Iceland shook his head and put his own knitting aside for a moment. "Give it here," he said, holding out his hand. Finland reluctantly handed it over. Iceland smiled fondly. Finland wasn't the best at knitting, but he put his whole heart into it. It was kind of cute. Iceland worked quickly, fixing it so it was as if it had never been missed. He handed it back to Finland.

Finland looked at him in awe. "How did you do that?" he demanded.

Iceland shook his head. "Secret of the trade." He put a finger over his lips, as if to lord over the fact that he knew something his elder didn't for once. It was only fair, he thought, the way Finland went on sometimes. "_Oh, Icey, you'll understand when you're older! Just let the grown-ups talk!_" He knew Finland's taunting was only in jest, considering he often told Denmark the same thing when he was acting particularly childish, but he didn't have to like it.

Finland pouted. Iceland's heart sped up and he felt a flush spread across his cheeks. He looked away. With his skin, it would be a dead giveaway. Why was he so cute?

"… I knit," said Finland quietly.

Iceland rolled his eyes. "Call me back when you can knit something other than a scarf."

Finland huffed. He set his knitting down on the chair and scooted over to where Iceland was sitting. He scooted Iceland's legs apart and laid his head on the edge of the seat. "Can't you tell me? I am adorable after all."

Iceland spluttered. "You— You're not that cute,"

"Well. Rude," Finland said. He looked away and rolled his pretty brown eyes. Iceland let out a breath. Brown eyes were so rare at his house. He thought they were lovely.

And it was all ruined when Finland's phone rang. (It was some sort of metal song in Finnish. Iceland didn't recognize it. All he knew was that it was loud.) Finland answered it quickly and jabbered on in Finnish. Iceland sighed. He loved the way it sounded. The way Finland rolled his Rs was hot. What he wouldn't give to have Finland roll Rs on his—

"I have to leave." Finland sighed, looking a bit dejected. "The email system we use crashed and I have to go and redo _all _my work and hand it to my boss manually."

Iceland frowned. He said, "Oh. Okay," in a soft voice. He considered saying that he didn't care anyway, but decided against it, at risk of sounding too passive-aggressive.

Finland slowly started to stand up. He leaned in and for a moment Iceland thought he was going to kiss him and, God, yes, he had been hoping for this.

Then Finland fussed with his hair and pulled away.

"Gosh, your hair is a mess! You can't do anything by yourself, can you? Lucky I'm here!" he said, but his face was bright red and his ears were pink. It was a very attractive look.

Iceland blinked the thoughts away. He stood up really quickly and walked into his kitchen.

"Wait. Before you leave—" He popped back in, a box in his hands. He quickly held it to Finland. "I knitted you a sweater. Because we're friends. Don't take this the wrong way. I don't like you; I just— Just take it, you asshole!"

Finland took the box into his hands gingerly. He seemed a bit nervous, unwilling to open it. He softly asked, "How angry do you think my boss will be if I don't go?"

"We probably won't be able to meet up for a while," Iceland said.

Finland looked pensive. He sighed. "It will pay off later." He turned and started to walk to the door. Iceland followed.

They smiled awkwardly for a moment. Then Finland leaned in and gave Iceland a long kiss—shit, Finland was a good kisser, really good, who had he kissed before, Iceland had to guess Sweden and Russia, but it was possible he'd kissed others, and why was he thinking about this, Finland was kissing him _right now_.

Before Iceland could fully enjoy himself, Finland had run out the door and was getting into his cab. Iceland knew it was pointless to chase him and then the cab pulled away.

He glanced over at his chair. Finland had forgotten his knitting. Well, he'd just have to come back sometime then.

Not that Iceland wanted him to or anything.


End file.
